The Night Before Christmas
by DraconisMuse
Summary: A mission gone wrong on Christmas Eve leaves Romanoff injured, but not exactly alone. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I definitely do not own the Avengers.

A/N: A little holiday oneshot with a slightly open ending. I didn't intend it to be more than a friendship/hurt/comfort fic, but it could probably be seen as more if you'd like. I wrote this pretty quickly, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it!

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Lights danced above her. Bright, colorful lights. She tried to catalogue them all. Red, blue, green...

Christmas lights.

Natasha turned her head and blinked slowly in hopes that her surroundings would suddenly make sense. It worked to an extent. She realized she was outside, laying amongst snow and debris, and the buildings around her were decorated with Christmas lights. Stars twinkled overhead as little specks of white drifted down around her. The cold seeped into her fingers, making them stiff, and as she breathed out heavily she could see her breath.

It would be a picture perfect Christmas night if not for the sound of the fight still raging.

Stark's repulsor blast shot overhead and a second later she heard something crash into a nearby building. The Christmas lights flickered, but somehow remained on.

She remembered the call from Fury about a mission to investigate a HYDRA base. Just investigate. Only she, Bruce, and Stark had been at the Tower though. Bruce had been in the middle of an experiment, and Stark had waived him off saying it was just a stalking mission. He'd insisted that it only needed two Avengers. She, in turn, had pointed out that she could do it by herself.

She vaguely remembered thinking that Stark just wanted out of the Tower for a while, but the more detailed parts of her memory were still a little difficult to grasp.

Natasha felt herself growing colder, and knew she had to move. She managed to push herself up on her elbows before a blinding pain ripped through her abdomen. She gritted her teeth and looked down for the source of the pain.

It wasn't hard to find.

A circular section of her abdomen, slightly off to the side, was bleeding profusely. A chunk of her uniform was missing around the injury, and the torn material looked singed.

The mission hadn't gone as planned.

That was all she could really remember, but it was enough. Nothing else mattered. Just the mission, and the fact it had gone bad. She needed to help Stark and secure the area. She needed...

She needed to figure out how to make her legs work.

After a brief struggle and more discomfort, Natasha felt her arms give out seconds before she was lying flat in the snow again. She breathed heavily, little puffs of air floated above her, and the Christmas lights continued to twinkle merrily.

A red and gold blur passed by, but returned soon after. Stark's armored boots sunk into the snow beside her as she stared tiredly up at the helmet looming over her. He seemed to study her, or maybe he was talking to JARVIS, before kneeling down in the snow next to her.

The visor lifted, and she watched as his eyes darted to the wound. "SHIELD has a medical team enroute. Should be here any minute," he told her. His expression belied his casual tone.

"Mission?" she asked, her voice cracked as if even her vocal cords were frozen.

"Pretty much blown," he answered dryly while reaching for something on the other side of her.

It wasn't until something scratchy, but warm was tucked around her that she realized it was a blanket. Or at least a makeshift blanket. She must have pulled it off without thinking about it at some point. With a quick glance she took note of the festive red and green poinsettias decorating what she now realized were curtains. Stark had probably gotten them from one of the half-destroyed houses nearby.

She couldn't remember him actually covering her with it the first time though.

She could also no longer feel the fingers of her left hand.

"Civilians?" It came out as a strained whisper, but Stark didn't seem to notice. He kept his eyes averted from her face as he adjusted the blanket and then preceded to apply pressure to the wound.

"In this backwater town?" He scoffed with dry amusement. "There weren't many."

"Civilians," she repeated. She needed to know.

"They're safe. Tucked away in a barn a few miles from here."

"HYDRA?"

Stark met her eyes, and for the first time she saw physical proof that he was concerned about her well-being. His eyes said it all. They spoke more than he ever would. As if he knew she was reading him like a book, he looked away again, but settled down more comfortably in the snow.

"Gone. Other than the ones you and I ushered into unconsciousness."

She didn't remember the fight, but it must have happened. The proof was keeping her from standing or moving, and apparently keeping her eyes from staying open as well. She felt a chill go down her spine before her entire body seemed to go numb. Only an odd heat around the wound in her side remained.

"It's Christmas."

Natasha felt her teeth chatter weakly as she forced her eyes open. Stark looked at what was left of the small town's decorations with a dark expression.

"W-what?" she asked.

He looked down at her again and pulled the blanket up closer to her chin.

"JARVIS told me it's after midnight. It's now officially Christmas."

"This...not how you... were planning on spending...it?" she asked with no real curiosity.

Stark smirked. "Not really. Could be worse."

He stood up and she watched in confusion as the armor unlatched from around him. He stepped out of it and she arched an eyebrow as he moved around her. She barely felt it when he lifted her torso up and slid behind her. He leaned back against something, a house perhaps, and carefully maneuvered her so she was leaning back against his chest.

"I can still...kill you, Stark," she reminded him.

"Not if you die of hypothermia, Romanoff," he replied with a scoff. His arms came around her from behind, one hand pressed firmly against her injured abdomen. "If you get warm too quickly you'll go into shock. So body heat. Enjoy it while you can, Romanoff. It's not every day I offer my body to someone like this."

There were a multitude of replies that she could give to that. At least a dozen were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't seem to get the words out.

A little warmth began to ease her tense back for the first time in what felt like hours. It didn't matter though. If medical didn't arrive soon, she wasn't going to make it. The fact Stark hadn't felt it a good idea to simply fly her to the nearest hospital said a lot. Between the blood loss, possible frostbite, and any internal injuries...

Her chances weren't that great.

"Tell Clint...something..."

"Don't even start," Stark interrupted. "We're not doing this whole 'tell so-and-so this and that' thing, Romanoff. This isn't one of those overly simplistic and overly sentimental movies people seem so fond of. If you want to tell bird brain something then you'll have to do it yourself. I'm not a messenger service."

"Just a...heating pad?"

"One of my many skills that few people know about."

She stared at the twinkling lights in silence until, off in the distance, she thought she saw lights in the sky heading their way. The frozen fog currently taking up residence in her mind wouldn't allow her to do more than notice them though. Her eyes drifted shut against her will.

"Hang in there, Romanoff," Stark told her. "Medical is just about here. They're landing now."

"S'cold."

"Obviously." There was a pause before Stark spoke again. "Merry Christmas, Romanoff."

A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Merry Christmas, Stark."


End file.
